its crew downed three—possibly four—of the
fighters. By the end of November, Shannon
and his crew had racked up 10 missions.
In December 1942, the 93rd Bomb Group
was sent south for a 10-day assignment in
North Africa, where it earned the nickname
“Ted’s Travelling Circus” in honor of group
commander Colonel Edward J. “Ted” Timber-
lake Jr. Hot Stuff’s first base was a primitive
airfield at Tafraoui, Algeria. “Tafraoui,” the
men griped, “where the mud is always gooey.”
Shannon and his crew were soon transferred
to Gambut Main, a remote airfield in the
Libyan desert, and their 10-day assignment
stretched to three months.
Hot Stuff flew 17 missions from Tafraoui
and Gambut Main, hitting targets in Africa,
Sicily, and Naples, Italy. The crew’s luck held.
While Hot Stuff often returned with battle
damage, no crewman suffered even a scratch,
plus tail-gunner Eisel was building a reputa-
tion for his deadly aim. Bombardier Jacobson
estimated that Eisel had shot down two dozen
enemy fighters. The total was unofficial, how-
ever, because Eisel was so busy shooting that
“he doesn’t have time to watch them crash...54 WORLD WAR II
TO
P:^ NATIONAL^
AR
CH
IVES;^ OPPOSITE:^ COU
RTESY^
OF^JIMLUX(and) doesn’t get credit for them,” Jacobson wrote to his parents.
In late February 1943, the 93rd Bomb Group returned to England.
Hot Stuff’s crew welcomed the tastier food and more comfortable
quarters at Hardwick, their new base. Jacobson told his parents he was
even gaining weight, “mostly around the waist.”
On March 17, 1943, Hot Stuff went back into action, flying a diver-
sionary mission to draw fighters away from a raid on the marshalling
yards in Rouen, France. The next day, Shannon and his crew hit Ger-
many for the first time, bombing a submarine base near Bremen. “It
was the hottest that we have been in,” Jacobson noted. “But we really
plastered that place.” Ninety-seven bombers hit the U-boat base, but
two planes and their crews were lost, 24 planes were badly damaged,
and 16 airmen were wounded.
Hot Stuff f lew its 30th mission on March 22, 1943, part of a 100-
plane attack against the U-boat yards in Wilhelmshaven, Germany.
Among the planes f lying with Hot Stuff that day was a B-17 named
Memphis Belle on what was its 16th mission. Three planes and their
crews were lost, 22 planes were badly damaged, and 18 crewmen were
wounded. Hot Stuff, however, came through unscathed, becoming the
first heavy bomber in Europe to complete 30 missions.
On March 31, 1943, Hot Stuff f lew its 31st and final combat mission
in a 102-plane attack on shipyards in Rotterdam, Holland. If 25 mis-
sions were now considered a full tour, as the Eighth Air Force was in
the process of confirming, then 31 missions were seen as more than
enough. Shannon and his crew had survived. They had completed their
tour, and their future looked bright. They’d rest in England for a few
weeks and then f ly back home to family and friends in America. The
War Department planned to display the plane and its crew on a tour of
the United States to boost morale and promote war-bond sales. The
men didn’t know about the planned publicity, only that they were
finally going home.ON APRIL 27, 1943, Shannon received orders for Hot Stuff and its crew
to report to Bovington, England. As a reward for completing 31 mis-
sions, Shannon and Hot Stuff would have the honor of f lying Lieuten-
ant General Frank M. Andrews to Reykjavík, Iceland, on their way
home. The 59-year-old Andrews, described by the Washington, D.C.,
Evening Star as a “square-jawed, deeply tanned, and hard-fighting
man,” was commander of all U.S. forces in the European Theater.
Officially, Andrews’s trip was billed as an inspection tour of Ameri-
can bases in Iceland. But Iceland was also a stepping stone for trans-
atlantic f lights—and Andrews seemed to be in too much of a rush for a
routine inspection. He was a rising star in the army; many historians
believe its chief of staff, General George C. Marshall, had called him
to Washington to be groomed to command the planned invasion of
France. The timing was right because the Trident Conference, where
concrete plans for invasions of the Continent were to be discussed, was
scheduled to begin in Washington on May 12. Copilot Lentz later said
he and Shannon were told that Andrews was heading back to the
United States, with Iceland only a fueling stop.
General Andrews had been piloting planes since 1918. Rated a com-
mand pilot, he still liked to take the controls, and he would make the
trip to Reykjavík as Shannon’s copilot in place of Lentz, who stayed
behind in England. The general’s friends and colleagues had suggested
he stay out of the cockpit, as they considered it an unnecessar y risk forLieutenant General Frank M. Andrews (here a
brigadier general in 1935) led all U.S. forces in the
European Theater from January 1943 until his death.